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Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Scarred

I know a girl.
A girl not too little, not too old enough.
For, under the bandeau she wears, there lies a heart
that makes her run out to soak in the rain and play on swings so high.
She knows there might be a rapist there at her door for all that she knows,
yet can't deny him water when he asks for some, worn out and tired.
I don't know if she has ever grown up,
that little girl I know, not bothered by inhibitions others throw at her,
she lives, not for survival,but for living alone.
On the swings she plays, there lies her soul jogging up to the sky,
in umpteen attempts to let go and fly, yet clings on to the body it knows,
just so that she wouldn't be left alone.
That soul knows she'll be hurt, that the swing will one day give away,
people she loves will hurt her hard,
so that when she falls face down on the earth..
and that when she gets up,
they'll look at her bemired face in colours not hers and laugh.
Her soul told her,
"Little girl, don't be so dulcet.
They're going to punch you with words you wouldn't have heard before,
with smirks so scathing that it can flake the layers of your heart.
Stay with me, I'm not going to go, I'll be there only for you."
The little girl I knew stood up on the inside of her eyes and cried,
"Oh let's not be cynical. Stay with me and I'll show you what it is that I love,
apart from you without who I can't last.
Be by my side and I'll show you the little world I can experience,
but only with your help."
Saying so, she ran out into the open meadows in a flimsy shift,
oh, under that bandeau., she ran out unprotected, into the sun and rain.
Sun gave her strokes and the rain blew her over with storms,
yet, she went on not realizing, what she was headed for.
Her face immaculate and her soul
near to being convinced,
of all the happiness in the world.
She grabbed those ochre ropes to fly
into the blues she always thought was just a moment's reach away.
But as she flung herself above, they snapped like an angry dog,
throwing her a few feet across, to hit against the rock she loved sitting on.
A gash ripped her cheek.
She cried on the flowers whose colours she loved.
Her soul picked her up and she ran.
Ran till she reached the singing creek so clear.
She peeped and saw the girl, in blood and pain.
No wind blew to wipe away her tears
nor did anyone come to pick her up.
She washed her face, her whites now stained.
I saw that girl who I thought I knew.
I look at her reflection, her scars now healed,
but a part of her soul lost forever.
Damn. I thought I knew this girl looking back at me,
as I looked upon the soul I loved look back at me,
not blaming me,
but cried in silent sobs..
I only thought I knew for.
I hurt her and I never even knew.
Oh, so who do I even know?
Me or the one in the mirror?